


Dodgy Chinese in LA

by longdarkteatime



Series: Dodgy Chinese [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Ceiling!Clint, First Time, I REGRET NOTHING, M/M, Rom Com Shenanigans, Tony!Feels, warning for run on sentences because i love them so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-17 15:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longdarkteatime/pseuds/longdarkteatime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony adopts all the things, builds them nests, and acts like a mature adult for once. Ceiling!Clint admires him from afar... or just the vents, which aren't all that far, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Retrieving an Introverted Rage Monster

**Author's Note:**

> Look! A wild prequel fic appears!

Tony blew into SHIELD headquarters, intent on finding and retrieving his favorite big green rage monster and fetching him home to Stark Tower where such a stunning mind clearly belonged.   
  
“Candyland, I told him about candyland, why the fuck would he be doing anything in SHIELD’s substandard facilities when my fantastically awesome labs are ripe for the plundering?” Tony paused, eyes narrowed in thought. “Fury. That sneaky one-eyed motherfucker doubtless has something to do with it.”   
  
Tony continued muttering imprecations against inscrutable pirate ninja spies while randomly invading random rooms and labs, on a spirited but hopelessly inefficient search for Bruce. He didn’t run across his new science boyfriend, but in a rec room, he did stumble over an archer, looking downtrodden and slumped into a sofa that matched the SHIELD decor, ultra-modern, hideous, and uncomfortable as hell.  
  
“Legolas! Do you know where SHIELD is hiding my favorite breach of the law of conservation of mass?”  
  
Clint looked away from whatever he was watching on the television. “What the hell?”  
  
Tony cocked his head. “My new science bro, breathtaking anger management issues, is any of this ringing a bell? How hard did you hit your head when you went through that window, anyway?”   
  
Tony tilted his head the other way. “Is that Supernanny?” he said, considerably more subdued.  
  
Clint stared for a few seconds, then slumped back in front of the television without saying a word.  
  
Tony watched the program for a few seconds, then watched Clint for a few more seconds, and shook his head. “Okay, Katniss, up and at ‘em, we have a search and rescue mission to accomplish.”  
  
Clint groaned, “Stark, I don’t know where Banner is, but I’m sure you’ll find him in a lab somewhere, you don’t need my help.”  
  
Tony just grinned and grabbed Clint by the arm, pulling and whining. “Nope, that’s enough Style Network for you. Your feathers are looking disheveled and droopy, you obviously need to get fresh air and sunshine, maybe some fresh birdseed, what do hawks eat anyway? Whatever it is, I’m sure I have some of it, now come on, we’ll go fetch Bruce, and both of you crazy kids can come to the Tower. Lots of windows, lots of sunlight, and the best entertainment technology on the planet. Win-win, Birdbrain.”  
  
Clint, for some reason, allowed himself to be towed along on this wave of words and terrible bird humor. But before Tony hauled him bodily from the rec room, he managed to wedge a word in to ask, “How’d you know Supernanny airs on the Style Network, anyway?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done through chapter 6... hopefully by the time I'm done posting these, I'll actually be finished with the rest of it which I should have finished months ago.

Tony led Clint, Bruce, and the Captain to the elevator leading to the private Avengers section of the Tower. He wasn’t sure when they’d managed to acquire Amber Waves of Grain, but he thought it might have been between the gym and the lab tucked into the corner under the stairs behind the southern hangar where no one ever went because it smelled like fermented cabbage. And why Tony hadn’t thought to check the most obscure, inconvenient, out of the way hole to find the world’s most introverted rage monster first he’d never understand.  
  
In any case, Cap had the shell-shocked look of someone riding the wave of Stark-talk for a little too long, so he had to have been swept up early in the process. It had taken an hour to find Bruce’s blanket fort of science. He’d have scooped up Natasha as well, might as well go for the whole set while Thor was fucked off to Asgard with his crazy as fuck brother, but Clint had informed him that she was off doing scary Natasha type things in places he didn’t have the security clearance to know existed. He’d have asked why Clint wasn’t doing scary Clint type things in those same places, but he’d got a shifty, hunted look on his face, and Tony exercised some of his ill-developed people skills and kept his mouth shut.  
  
“OK, kids! Everyone who’s getting on the elevator, put your hands on this panel.” Tony pointed out which one by slapping his own palm down on the indicated panel and waiting for JARVIS to scan it. “The elevator doors won’t open without the scan to prevent unauthorized access. Don’t let anyone on the elevator without scanning, and for God’s sake, don’t open it for access to, say, construction workers. That’s how security breaches happen, people.”  
  
Tony waited while everyone scanned, then joined him on the elevator.   
  
Clint, of course, had to point out the obvious hole in the security. “What happens if someone decides to cut off one of our hands to get elevator access? Then they can just sail right up.” Steve looked a little green at the thought. Really, he’d fought Nazis. You’d think he’d be well-acquainted with the depths of human depravity.  
  
Tony shook his head. “Yeah, no, there has to be a pulse, or the security programs will kick in. Also, any would-be intruders would have to deal with the more imminent issue of attempting to cut off one of our hands.” Tony smirked, then. “Besides, you don’t think that’s the only security measure I’ve installed in this building, do you? You’d think Fury would have an entire file dedicated to my well-justified paranoia.”  
  
“What other security measures  _have_  you installed, Mr. Stark?” the Captain wanted to know. Unfortunately for Captain, that earnest, sincere, controlled “I am your Leader and you will tell me because of REASONS” tone is pretty much the anti-Kryptonite to Tony Stark. It just made him even more intractable.  
  
Tony gave him an innocent smile, “I am  _very_  paranoid, Captain Rogers. Would it make sense for me to reveal all the highly-secret precautions I’ve taken with my personal security?”  
  
Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
  
Bruce hmmed and said, “Tony, is the elevator always this slow?”  
  
Tony scratched his nose and replied, “Well, it’s a very tall building.”  
  
Bruce side-eyed him and lifted an eyebrow, but luckily for Tony, the elevator doors finally opened on the communal Avengers floor.   
  
“OK, then,” Tony shooed everyone off the elevator. “This is the communal floor, labeled A-2 in the private elevator, which is the only one that comes up here, and I’ve already shown you how to get on it. A-4 is reserved for Natasha, so she can protect us all from anything that does manage to infiltrate this far, because she’s the scariest of all of us and whatever manages to circumvent my security might be almost as scary as her. A-6 is Cap’s, A-7 goes to Bruce, A-8 to Thor, A-9 is for the Birdie, here, I figured he’d like the view, and A-10 is, of course, my penthouse, where Bruce left me a wonderful souvenir of the Hulk absolutely pwning Loki like a boss, I’m thinking of putting it under glass.”  
  
Clint snorted. “I didn’t think people actually said pwn, Stark.”  
  
Tony grinned, “It’s the only term that fits, Barton.” He continued, “Anyway, moving along, communal floor, with entertainment area, kitchen, gym, target range, spare rooms, sauna, medical suite, etc. A-5 is Pepper’s because next to Natasha is safest, A-3 is the guest suite, and A-0 and A-1 are the private labs.”  
  
Tony whirled on his wide-eyed captives… adoptees… guests? Tenants? Whatever. “Any questions?”  
  
Captain actually  _raised his hand_ , it was  _adorable_. “Yes, Captain,” Tony said, resisting the urge to clasp his hands in glee.  
  
“ _Floors_? I thought, when you said you were giving us rooms in the Tower, you meant actual  _rooms_ , not entire  _levels_.”  
  
Tony cocked his head to the side, looking at Cap like some exotic animal he’d found in a zoo. “We have actually met, right, Cap? I mean, don’t you know if I think something’s worth doing, it’s worth overdoing?”


	3. Tony Wears His Mature Pants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::winces:: SORRY SORRY SORRY. Turns out the professional liability insurance industry is a busy, busy industry. WHO FUCKING KNEW?

Pepper dropped abruptly to sit on the edge of the bed with one shoe still in her hand. She listened to Tony rambling around his toothbrush about… possibly something about vibranium and gamma radiation and Bruce, but also might be something about his plan for ultimate world domination, probably by installing ruthlessly efficient AIs in the arc reactors they’re selling to replace fossil fuel energy.

It was just a symptom of how much Stockholm syndrome was actually affecting her that an idea that should have her creeped out down to the depths of her soul didn’t even make her blink. She was pretty sure he’d probably installed JARVIS everywhere he could hack already anyway, and considering this was Tony, that meant JARVIS was probably already quietly running the world. Tony, honestly, couldn’t be bothered.

“Tony, this just isn’t working. Well, it is working, but it’s… something’s missing, isn’t it?”

The rambling abruptly cut off. Tony came out of the bathroom with his toothbrush still in his mouth. “Wha? Wha’s boken?”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Tony, lose the toothbrush. Nothing’s broken. Except, maybe, I think, us.”

Tony darted back into the bathroom long enough to spit and rinse, and darted back out.

“What are you talking about? We’re not broken, we’re… we’re good, right? I mean, we’re good. Have I done something? I’ve been trying not to complain about those meetings you want me to go to, but honestly, they’re so boring, but I can do that, I can bitch less about the meetings. And omelets! I can do omelets, do you want an omelet? Let me go make an omelet.”

“No, Tony, no! It’s not you, it’s nothing you’ve… it’s not your fault. We’ve just been - what we are, for too long, Tony. We’ve been Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark for years, and I think we both need that, more than we need Tony and Pepper. You need me to solve your ridiculous problems and force you to pay attention to your company and you need me to wrangle you where you don’t want to be and run your company and… that just doesn’t work as Tony and Pepper, does it?”

Tony sat next to Pepper on the bed, putting one knee up to face her straight on. He watched her face for a minute, wishing he were better at reading her, or anybody, but he just didn’t know how to figure out people just by looking at them. 

“You sure you don’t want an omelet?”

Pepper laughed, a little like she didn’t want to but couldn’t help it, the same way she always laughed at him, the way he loved to hear her laugh.

“No omelet, Tony.”

Tony nodded. “OK. No omelet.” He cleared his throat. “You’re gonna keep your apartment here in the Tower, right? Or, I’ve got other places in New York, you can have any of them if you want - “

Pepper took Tony’s hand in hers. “I’m not leaving, Tony. I’ll still be here. You’re all I have too, you know.”

Tony leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m going to go sulk in the workshop for at least a week. Also, I’m taking back that offer about not complaining about your boring meetings. That is absolutely off the table, I hope you know. You can expect to enjoy untold depths of bitchery in the future.”

Pepper laughed. “I would expect no less, Mr. Stark.”

“So, will that be all, Ms. Potts?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

Tony nodded and headed for his workshop. He had a promise to keep about a week of champion sulking after all. On his way, he asked JARVIS to call Fury and tell him that he had some unexpected openings in his schedule, so he could send him that project for the overhauled Helicarrier engines after all.


	4. Tony Hopes Nobody Saw That

“You know you’ve been down here for three days straight?”

****

Tony definitely did not shriek or throw his screwdriver at the sneaky motherfucker who’d appeared out of fucking nowhere behind him.

****

“How in the cocksucking fuck did you even get in here?”

****

“I’ve been checking out the vents. You didn’t put any security on them.”

****

“The _fuck_ I didn’t. JARVIS!”

****

“Agent Barton is an authorized resident of the Avengers section of the Tower, sir. As the ducts are part of this section, I felt that his explorations did not constitute a breach of security protocol.”

****

“Maybe not of the common areas, but he’s not authorized for lab access, and since that duct he just slid out of is part of this lab, I think this falls under the heading of security breach.”

****

“As you wish, sir. Should further incursions activate the security protocols, sir?”

****

Tony shook his head, “No! No, don’t activate the security protocols for any authorized resident in an unauthorized area. Just inform me and stop their progress.”

****

Clint raised an eyebrow. “What the hell are these security protocols anyway?”

****

Tony… sort of wince-shrugged. “Ah. No big deal. Just extra security, nothing to worry about.”

****

Clint crossed his arms over his chest and settled himself in, conveying “That is _so_ not gonna cut it” with every twitch of his body language.

****

Tony sighed. “Really, it’s not a big deal, there just… might be a few lasers? And, maybe some other things but honestly, there’s no such thing as too much security in a high-visibility, high-risk environment like the 90-story tall home of six superheroes who just saved the world, right? Right, so, the security is just a little extra precaution, all perfectly safe, redundancies on redundancies, separate power supply so no one can shut down JARVIS and get past that way, shielding against electromagnetic interference, it’s all, you know, perfectly safe.”

****

Clint stared at their mad scientist landlord. “Let me get this straight. I’ve been crawling around in air ducts with _lasers_ and other things that are deadly enough that you won’t tell me what they actually are but will throw _lasers_ at me because they’re _less scary_? And it’s controlled by your AI. I’ve got all that?”

****

Tony shrugged. “JARVIS likes you. You’ll be fine up there.”

****

Clint sighed. “I have obviously lost my mind because that’s actually reassuring.”

****

Tony retrieved his screwdriver from the floor at Clint’s feet where he definitely had not flung it while not shrieking.

****

“Well, if you went to all the trouble of slithering through the vents to get here, you must need something.”

****

“Yeah, to retrieve you from your little shop of mechanical horrors. Three days, Stark. It’s not healthy.”

****

Tony shrugged. “I’ve been down here for way longer than that. You should have seen me after Afgha- when I was building the suit. I think JARVIS might have replaced some of the shop bulbs with UV lights so I wouldn’t die of vitamin D deficiency.”

****

“Look at you, making my argument for me.” Clint grabbed Tony’s arm and started hauling him away from the workbench.

****

Tony grabbed, fruitlessly, for a handhold. “No, no, no, I’m in the middle of something here,” he whined.

****

Clint didn’t even pause, but did ask, “What?”

****

Tony stopped whining, because honestly? He wasn’t entirely sure what that was on his workbench. But, “I have those designs for the overhaul of the engines of the helicarrier, I’m redesigning all of your armor to incorporate more shielding, I’ve got some ideas for some fantastic arrows for your bow, I’m working on making the miniature arc reactors mass producible, I think there are some things about smart crops on my todo list too, I’m swamped!”

****

Clint paused. “I get that you’re busy and shit. But judging by your complexion, which is a lovely shade of ashy gray, the fact that your hands are shaking, oh, and you actually have no idea what that is you were just working on, don’t think I missed that, that you were having trouble sleeping well before you locked yourself in here, because yeah, even I know you can go more than a few days down here without killing yourself from exhaustion.” Clint started pulling again. “So now we are going to go upstairs, you are going to eat a meal, and if you don’t pass out in your mashed potatoes before you’re done, we are all going to gather in front of that massive fucking television in the living room and watch a movie. And then you are going to goddamned sleep like a human fucking being, Stark.”

****

Tony yanked away from Clint. “I don’t… I’m not hungry.”

****

Clint just looked at him for a second, and said, sympathetically, “Pepper’s not up there, Tony.”

****

Tony didn’t look at him. “What’s that got to -“

****

“Pepper told Natasha, Natasha told us.”

****

Tony crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the floor for a minute before replying, “It’s not her fault. We just… didn’t work. I mean, I get it. She said we spent too long the way we were first, and I get it, when we weren’t together I missed Pepper, but when we were together, I still missed Pepper, just Pepper like she used to be, bullying me and yelling at me and making me do the stupid grown-up stuff that’s boring and I never want to do.”

****

“I’m sorry, Tony.”

****

“Don’t be. It’s… It’s what’s best for Pepper. I just want her to be happy, fuck knows I’ve caused a shitload of grief for her for years.”

****

Clint just nodded.

****

Tony finally looked at him. “Why’d you come down here anyway?”

****

Clint shrugged. “You… you got me out of SHIELD when the place was driving me crazy. And I know what it’s like when your girlfriend dumps you for what seems like a bullshit reason, but turns out to be a good idea.”

****

“You know what you did wasn’t your fault, right? I mean, you were mind-controlled by an insane alien god, that’s pretty much as blank slate as it gets - “

****

Clint interrupted, “No, no, actually, that… I’m good on that. I remember everything, and, I mean, I didn’t try to fight it even a little, and I know that I would’ve if I could. Which, weirdly, makes it all a little easier. I mean, if Loki’s control was absolute enough that I couldn’t even fight it, there really wasn’t anything I could do about it. If I could’ve tried to fight it, I’d be moping around right now wondering why I wasn’t good enough to shake it off. So, you know, at least I’m not carrying around the hideous guilt of killing people I knew and called friends.” Clint paused. “I’m just… every time I turned around in that place I’d see… especially Coulson. He… he was my handler, you know, pretty much since the second I was brought in to SHIELD. Other than Natasha he was my best friend in that place…” Clint stopped and looked away. “Anyway, you came in and scooped us all up and brought us here, where there’s an awesome television and we don’t have to eat the fucking mystery meat in the SHIELD caf. I figured, least I could do is drag you out to get a little fresh air and sunlight, maybe some fresh birdseed.”

****

Tony laughed at that.

 


	5. Tiptoeing Across the DMZ

About a week after the first time Clint forced him out of the lab, he ended up in the living room with Steve, with everyone else conveniently absent for Movie Night. Tony rolled his eyes.

****

“All right, Captain. I guess we’ve been tiptoeing around each other longer than everyone else is going to tolerate. Come on. Let’s get it over with. You can tell me all about how I’m out of line and out of control and I can ignore you. The air will be cleared and we can get on with business.”

****

Cap sat down on the other end of the couch from Tony, pulling a knee up to face him. “I’m not… you’re not out of control. I’m not… okay, I’m sorry about what I said, at SHIELD. I was the one out of line.”

****

Tony actually gaped for a second before regaining control. Captain America seriously not taking the opportunity to tell him what a loser he was, an opportunity three quarters of the planet would arm wrestle the supersoldier for? Un-fucking-real. “To be fair, Cap, I did call you a science experiment. Also spangly.”

****

Cap smirked a little. “Well, the uniform is… very patriotic.” He paused. “I considered a redesign, but… Agent Coulson designed that one.”

****

Tony shook his head. “No, no, keep that one. Coulson… Agent would have liked that.” He looked at the… jesus, the kid sitting on the end of his couch, playing with the seam of one of the couch cushions, and it just hit him, that this really was a kid, in his twenties, who’d lost everyone he knew in a matter of weeks, from his own perspective.

****

“I’m sorry, too. You’re not useless, or just a science experiment. Can’t do anything about the spangly though. You’ll just have to own your inner diva.”

****

Cap - Steve - smiled at him.

****

“OK, Steve. Let’s watch Singin’ In The Rain. I think you’ll like it, it’s a musical from 1952, set in the late 20s, probably the best musical ever, actually…”

****

Steve settled back and let Tony ramble through the opening credits.

 


	6. What Is This I Don't Even

Clint had made it a habit of dragging Tony out of the lab for at least a few minutes every day after that first time, even if he had to crawl through the vents to do it. Which JARVIS always mysteriously allowed, and Clint was carefully not thinking about how autonomous JARVIS seemed. He’d already stopped playing Portal.

****

In fact, he was crawling through the ducts right now, not because he couldn’t get into the lab the regular way, he probably could, Tony hadn’t actually barred himself in like he had at first, but it was amusing the way Tony shrieked and threw things and then tried to cover like a cat falling off a banister, all ruffled dignity and making sure no one saw it happen. But this time, as he approached the vent, he could already hear Bruce and Tony, chattering like teenagers as Science Happened.

****

He settled by the vent to watch the two scientists. Tony hadn’t exactly been despondent for the last couple of weeks, he was telling the truth about understanding Pepper’s position, but he’d been… subdued, especially in comparison to the usual Stark Antics. Clint had dragged him out into the city a few times, and he could usually get Tony pretty cheerful, but he hadn’t seen him nearly as animated as he was right now, with both scientists high-speed babbling about things Clint didn’t have a hope of understanding.

****

And then it hit Clint that he was _moping_ in an _air vent_ because _Tony fucking Stark_ was Science Rambling at _someone else_. He silently mouthed _oh my fucking god what is this I don’t even_ as he rapidly and silently crawled away to find the one person who could explain _what the fuck he was thinking_.

****

“Natasha!”

****

Natasha sighed as Clint spilled out of the vent in her room. “Remind me to put traps in the air ducts. There are birds loose in there.”

****

“Natasha, this is _serious_ , I need your help!”

****

“Is this about your ridiculous crush on Stark?”

****

“I didn’t even know I had a ridiculous crush on Tony!”

****

“I am entirely unsurprised.”

****

“Oh my god what am I supposed to do with this? This is a disaster! He’s _Tony fucking Stark_ , he’s hot and rich and a _fucking genius_ , how am I supposed to compete with genius, he’s got Bruce and they babble all this scientific shit and I don’t understand any of it, but Bruce gets it, and Bruce is hot, too, obviously Tony’s going to fall for him, he likes the hot, smart type, look at Pepper, fuck, this is hopeless.” Clint collapsed back on Natasha’s bed.

****

Natasha rolled her eyes so hard they should have fallen out of her head. “Yes, Tony has a stunning crush… on Bruce’s gray matter. The rest of him is just transport for his brain, as far as Tony is concerned. I’m pretty sure if Bruce figured out a way to transfer his brain to a tank and do nothing but think 24/7, Tony would shriek like a Twihard on the glitter aisle and come in his pants, possibly simultaneously.”

****

Clint groaned. “You’re right, he’s way out of my league, Bruce is a much better choice.”

****

Natasha threw a pillow at him. “Tony’s not interested in Bruce, you feeble-minded twit! Not as anything other than someone who actually speaks his science language.”

****

Clint covered his face with his hands. “I can’t speak his science language!”

****

Natasha rubbed a hand over her face. “Oh my fucking god, why do I even try?”

 


	7. Bruce Just Wants To Work

Tony, Bruce mused, needs a hobby. It might seem a strange thing to think about the head of the R&D department of the foremost tech company in the world, the man single-handedly revolutionizing clean energy, the man with the brain the size of a planet. You’d think he’d have plenty of stuff to fill his time, but instead, he was in Bruce’s lab, plying him with dried fruits and babbling about bow designs and... crinkles or something?

****

Bruce shoved his glasses up and rubbed his eyes. “Tony, seriously, what?”

****

“What, what?”

****

“No, you’re babbling and it’s completely incomprehensible, one minute it’s a new bow design and the next it’s crinkles, is it some kind of collapsible bow? Doesn’t Clint already have one of those?”

****

Tony darted his eyes to the side, not looking at Bruce. “Yes, but, well, collapsible bows are always useful, right? A boy can never have too many portable weapons, I mean that.”

****

Bruce huffed out a sigh. “This is about your ridiculous crush on Clint, isn’t it?”

****

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, don’t be ridiculous, am I that obvious, this is terrible, this is why he’s avoiding me, isn’t it?”

****

“Clint isn’t avoiding you.”

****

“Clint is _totally_ avoiding me! He’s off at SHIELD right now doing something secretive and spy-like and he didn’t even invite me along and he hasn’t slunk through my vents in days!”

****

Bruce shot him a look at that.

****

Tony winced. “That sounded less dirty in my head.”

****

Bruce laughed, because nothing sounded less dirty in Tony’s head. “Look, Clint is probably just busy. It’s been weeks since the attack, maybe the psych department is getting ready to release him to field duty and he’s getting ready for that. Why don’t you just go find him and ask him?”

****

Tony brightened, because really, the SHIELD psych department had been being ridiculous about this whole thing. “That, Bruce, sounds like a wonderful idea, let’s go!” And Tony grabbed Bruce and started dragging him along, which hadn’t actually been what Bruce had in mind at all, but Tony was determined and relentless and promising ice cream and Bruce had a deeply secret affection for frozen dairy products, don’t judge a giant green rage monster for his sweet tooth, okay?

 


	8. Coulson Drags Ass Out of Medical

Tony dragged his entourage (Bruce and Steve, who had been collected along the way because Tony wouldn’t want him to feel left out of the festivities) into SHIELD’s New York headquarters, which looked a lot like a battered, tattered flying battleship dry-docked for repairs. Tony began a spirited search for their archer, reluctant entourage in tow, but without an omniscient, omnipresent AI to simply tell him where to go, he was just irritating the living fuck out of every scientist, agent, and janitor they came across..

****

Luckily, his reluctant entourage had better sense and herded him to the target range. Tony had barely gotten out an enthusiastic “Merida!” and hidden an internal wince at the wide-eyed, panicky look on Clint’s face before his phone was blaring the Jaws theme. He whipped it out and answered with a much less enthusiastic “Fury! What do you want?”

****

“Security tells me you’re on my ship, Stark.”

****

“Those little tattle-tales.”

****

“Get your ass to my office. And bring the rest of them. Now that I have all of you on the premises, we might as well have that team debriefing that you’ve been ducking for weeks.”

****

Tony paused. “If this is a team thing, why aren’t you speaking to Cap, instead of me? He is team leader after all.”

****

Fury huffed. “Cap doesn’t have his goddamned phone turned on. He _never_ has his goddamned phone turned on.”

****

Tony cut a look at Steve, who winced, super-soldier hearing obviously living up to the hype. “Why, Steven, you rebel you. I’m so proud!”

****

Steve blushed. “I... can’t remember how to turn it on...”

****

Fury barked, “It doesn’t matter, Stark! Get your asses to my office! NOW!” And hung up. Loudly.

****

Tony put his phone away, wondering if Fury had old-fashioned landlines with actual handsets installed just so he could slam the phone down in emphatic punctuation. “What a drama queen,” he muttered, and turned to Steve. “Not to worry, Cap, we’ll set up some kind of modern technology tutorial. Though, really, you could just keep avoiding his calls, you have the perfect excuse, might as well use it.”

****

Tony turned to Clint, then, pretending not to notice or care that Clint wouldn’t look him in the eye. “Hey, Katniss, call your partner-in-badassery, Fury beckons,” and turned to lead the way to Fury’s domain, preoccupied with silently calling himself a moron and Bruce an asshole for convincing him to come here at all.

****

When they reached Fury’s office, Natasha had, naturally, beaten them there. Hell, she’d probably been there since before Fury even called, because Natasha knows everything.

****

Fury glared at Stark, just on principle, then said, “Sit, people! We’ve been putting off this debrief long enough - “ and of course, Tony had to interrupt, because this bureaucratic bullshit was, well, bullshit.

****

“Look, the whole thing was recorded, can’t you just watch it on YouTube, why do we have to do this ridiculous quasi-military crap?”

****

“Because we need unbiased accounting -”

****

“That’s what recordings are for, not participant accounts -”

****

“Don’t _argue_ with me, Stark -”

****

“Then don’t pull that ‘because I said so’ bullshit on me, _Fury_ , that shit stopped working before I was _two years old_ -” and was interrupted himself by Fury’s desk phone ringing.

****

Fury glared and snatched it up. “Yes?”

****

Fury stilled and didn’t react to whatever he heard. “And where has he gone?”

****

Fury nodded, still carefully not showing any reaction and not looking at anyone in the office with him. “Right, of course you don’t know. How would you? Who was the last person in with him?”

****

Fury paused, listening to a growing commotion outside his office, and closed his eyes. “Never mind. I know where he is,” and hung up the phone, just in time for his office door to slam open and reveal a figure in scrubs and a clearly stolen lab coat, calm, collected, and terrifyingly efficient.

****

“Director Fury. Agent Hill visited me, and do you know what she told me? That you manipulated and lied to my assets, and in the process _ruined my vintage trading cards_.”

****

Fury looked... as non-sheepish as possible. “Agent Coulson. Shouldn’t you still be in Medical?”

****

Natasha had withdrawn from her position at Fury’s left when the door slammed open and then froze, gun in hand, staring at her handler. Fury flicked an almost sympathetic glance at her and Clint, who had adopted the same defensive, frozen stance as his partner. He regained movement and put the handgun he wasn’t technically supposed to be carrying away, then flung himself at Coulson.

****

Seeing Clint actually hugging Agent was enough to shock Tony out of his own paralysis, and he whirled on Fury, decided not to bother, and turned on Steve, ordering him to retrieve a wheelchair from Medical as fast as possible. Once Steve had scurried off, Tony hit a button on his phone, connecting to JARVIS. “JARVIS, retrieve Agent Coulson’s belongings, and put them,” Tony looked at Clint still clutching Coulson with a big, crinkly grin on his face, swallowed, and continued “put them on Agent Barton’s floor.” He hung up and started herding his people out of the office while Fury was still on the wrong foot.

**  
**“OK, time to go, everyone, Fury, you’ve been very, very naughty, we’ll talk about this later, right now, though, it’s time for all good little Agents to go home to rest, look, Steve’s gotten a wheelchair for you, settle down in that and we’ll get out of here, come on, Agent Romanov, the bus is leaving with or without you, put him _down_ , Birdbrain, you can’t both fit in the chair...” and slammed the door in Fury’s lying, lying face.


	9. Chapter 9

Once Tony got his people out of SHIELD, he realized that he had no way of fitting all of them into the car he, Bruce, and Steve had brought. Sure, it was roomy, it’d have to be for Steve to even fit into it, but it wouldn’t seat six people. At least, not if those six people included a claustrophobic rage monster, an oversized super soldier, and a man recovering from a stab wound from an unidentified alien weapon.

****

Natasha noticed Tony’s dithering, rolled her eyes, and said, “You know, Clint and I did have to get here this morning somehow. Steve, Bruce, you’re with me. Clint, you and Coulson get to wallow in obscene consumerism.” With that, she led Steve and Bruce off to the employee parking area, while Clint fussed over getting Coulson settled comfortably in the back seat of Tony’s car, while Tony himself hovered uncertainly, shooting distressed glances at Clint’s back every few seconds.

****

Once Coulson was settled to Clint’s satisfaction, which looked a lot like Coulson getting exasperated and shooing Clint off with a firm, “Dammit, Barton, I’m not a puppy, cut it out, the seat belt is fine, can we _go_?”, Tony started the car and headed for the Tower, trying to ignore the way Clint couldn’t stay settled forward in his seat and kept turning around to grin at Coulson. Finally, because he had to know, he asked, “So, Agent. Not dead. What’s up with that, anyway?”

****

Coulson rolled his eyes. “Well, Stark, as it turns out, being stabbed in the chest with an alien weapon of unknown origin leaves one disorientated for quite a while, but eventually, even I noticed that no one had so much as sent a basket of generic flowers. While I might have expected that from you -” Tony hid the flinch, because he wouldn’t, he _wouldn’t_ , he was bringing the man into his home the second he found out he was alive, why wasn’t that good enough what was he supposed to _do_ , “- Captain Rogers would have enquired at least out of politeness, and Barton and Romanov would have reported for debrief at the first opportunity.” Clint smiled and nodded at that. “And then Agent Hill informed me of the situation yesterday, since she was, quote, “Sick to fucking death of Barton’s moping,” end quote.”

****

Tony nodded, and said, “Right,” quietly, while Clint muttered sulkily in the passenger seat, “Wasn’t moping.” The rest of the trip to the Tower was made in silence, Tony still fighting down his reaction to that jab of Coulson’s and Clint constantly grinning over the seats at Coulson. They arrived to find the others had beaten them there (obviously, Clint had fussed for at least ten minutes over Coulson before they could even leave) and were waiting for them. While the others gathered around Coulson and fussed over him while getting on the elevator, Tony quietly sidled to the side where they couldn’t see he hadn’t even got on the elevator and waited for them to go up. He hit the button for the elevator to the lab levels and once he was safely in with the doors closed, informed JARVIS that he was heading to Malibu as soon as possible, please let Pepper know.

****

The others didn’t notice Tony’s absence until after they’d reached Clint’s floor, where JARVIS had taken them while they were too busy hovering over Coulson to actually hit any of the buttons. Clint and Natasha were settling Coulson on the couch, while Steve and Bruce hovered awkwardly, when Bruce finally asked, “Where did Tony go?” Natasha looked up and shook her head, saying, “I didn’t even pay attention, he’s... not very comfortable with sick people, he probably went to his lab to design a dozen different ways to make Coulson’s recovery easier.”

****

Clint said, “He’ll come up after he’s built a couple of robots to fetch Phil’s slippers and the remote. Leave him be, for now.” Clint stood, “I’m going to go change the sheets on the guest bed.” Steve and Bruce decided to leave, too, since they were just hovering awkwardly and being generally useless. Bruce left with an awkward, murmured, “It’s nice to meet you, finally, Agent Coulson,” since he’d never actually had the chance to speak with him. Steve left with an equally awkward, “It’s really good to see you up and about, Agent Coulson.”

****

Natasha shook her head, ruefully. “Sometimes, Coulson, I think I’m the only one in this place with any social skills at all, and it’s terrifying.”

****

Coulson looked up at her from his new nest on the couch. “What’s going on with Stark and Barton? Stark kept giving him kicked puppy looks in the car, and Barton made sure never to even glance his way.”

****

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, those two are pathetic. They are deep in the throes of denial and mutually unrequited longing. It’s like a bad romance novel.”

****

Coulson’s eyebrows made for his hairline. “Barton and Stark?!”

****

Natasha nodded. “Clint thinks Stark is too smart and hot for him, and Stark thinks Clint is too hot and good for him.”

****

Clint returned from the guest room, interrupting their conversation. “Hey, Coulson, all your stuff is already here, which is kind of scary fast, Tony is one efficient motherfucker. I don’t understand why JARVIS wouldn’t put your stuff on the empty floor, but I guess it’s more convenient while you’re staying up here with me until you’re on your feet.”

****

Natasha huffed, looked at Coulson, and said, “And also apparently Tony thinks you and Clint are together.” She stood, “I’m not even dealing with this anymore, you straighten it out, Coulson,” and stalked out of Clint’s apartment.

****

Clint stared after her in confusion, then looked at Coulson, who had raised the Eyebrow of Expectation at him. “What?”

  
“Seriously, Barton, I’ve been mostly dead for weeks and even I know Stark has a massive crush on you.”


	10. Dodgy Chinese in LA... er, West Hollywood, Close Enough

Clint headed down to the lab to fish Tony out after Coulson informed him in no uncertain terms that he was not planning on recuperating in the midst of this stew of ridiculousness, only to be informed by JARVIS that “Sir has travelled to the Malibu house.”

****

And naturally Clint can’t get a flight until the next day.

****

But Clint finally does get to Malibu, and thankfully, JARVIS likes him enough that he didn’t get killed breaking into the house. Clint is under no illusions, he might not know the exact specifications of the scary fucking shit Tony has installed and lets JARVIS control to protect the house, but he knows it exists and he does not want to tangle with it.

****

JARVIS directs him to the lab, where Tony has already built at least two small robots that look like they’re learning how to play fetch and looks to be working on some kind of medieval torture device, which Clint figures means it’s probably for PT. Clint enters the lab quietly, because as much as he adores Tony, scaring the shit out of him and watching his reaction is always fantastic.

****

“Is there some reason you couldn’t do this in New York?”

****

Tony sort of... convulses, shrieks, throws the tool in his hand straight at Clint’s head and throws his hand up like he’s going to repulsor blast the threat, except no repulsors. Clint dodges the... he can’t even identify what it is. “What the _fuck_ , JARVIS, do we need to go over the definition of _security breach_ again?”

****

Clint smirked at him. “JARVIS likes me, you said so. We should go out, get some Chinese, what do you say?”

****

Tony gaped at him, “What, no, I have work, I needed the mini-particle accelerator, that’s why I’m here, uh, I can’t put it in the Tower yet, New York zoning laws are a bitch, completely unreasonable, the chances of it blowing up are practically zero, I am kind of hungry, I guess Chinese sounds good.”

****

Clint beamed at him. “Great, good, I know this place in West Hollywood, I love their hot and sour soup.”

****

“You want to drive all the way to _West Hollywood_ for Chinese?”

****

\--

****

Tony spent most of the drive staring at Clint, who was happily driving one of Tony’s cars, and wondering, faintly, what the fuck just happened. One minute, engineering, next minute, driving to West Hollywood of all places for Chinese food. What happened to Clint avoiding him like he’s carrying leprosy and ebola?

****

Clint was happily driving a truly fantastic car, with a hot genius engineer at his side, and completely oblivious to the fact that he never said, “Hey, let’s go on a date, Tony, and go to a Chinese place for dinner,” because Clint was, in fact, just as much of a socially maladapted idiot as the object of his affections. Luckily for him, Tony’s car was so much fun to drive that he got them all the way to the restaurant before Tony had a chance to overcome his confusion.

****

Once inside the terrifying, dodgy, hole in the wall place that Clint claims is his favorite Chinese restaurant in _California_ -Tony is just hoping he’s never been to San Francisco and that’s why he’s making these ridiculous claims - Tony was forced to wonder if this was how Clint was visiting revenge on him for harboring a ridiculous, pathetic crush.

****

So Tony was shoving shitty lo mein in his face so he wouldn’t start talking, but then he ran out of lo mein or anything else to distract his face, so naturally he started talking.

****

“So, uh, how’s Coulson? He feeling okay, settling in?

****

Clint scarfed down his own mouthful of lo mein and nodded, “Yeah, he seems to be fine, but why is all his stuff in my room, there’s a whole vacant floor, why do I have to double up?”

****

Tony screwed up his face. “Your lover has been presumed dead for weeks and you’re not trying to keep him right where you can see him and make sure no one else tries to kill him?”

****

Clint sat there with a lo mein noodle hanging out of his mouth, because what? He chewed his food like a functional adult, while Tony was goggling and incoherent with rage and then responded, “What the fuck?””

****

“What what what?! Why are you acting like I’m the unreasonable one here? You’ve been moping like a, a, a big mopey thing, I don’t even know, and now Agent is back, and you’re all with the hugging and the laughing and the crinkling but now you don’t even want him on the same floor as you?! There’s plenty of space, for the love of fuck, I BUILT THOSE SPACES, I know how big they are, dammit - “

****

“Well, yes, Tony, they are very big floors, it definitely is plenty of space but the thing is I don’t want to share that space with Phil and Phil doesn’t particularly want to share that space with me, see, Phil is kind of a neat freak and I’m kind of... not, and Phil really likes classical music, with, like, cellos and shit and I’m kind of into dubstep at the moment and, oh yeah, there’s the part where WE AREN’T FUCKING.” And he takes another bite of lo mein, because he knows that Tony’s going to have to process the musical affront before he gets to the not fucking Phil part.

****

Tony screwed up his face into a remarkably accurate impersonation of Y U NO Guy, Clint was appropriately impressed. “Fucking DUBSTEP, seriously?! That shit is like a subwoofer and crystal meth got together and shat out a love child named Skrillex, I won’t have it, do you understand wait what do you mean you aren’t fucking Phil? There was HUGGING and CRINKLING.”

****

Clint shook his head. “I’m not exactly sure what your crinkling thing is all about, but I mean there has been no carnal contact between Coulson and me. His dick and my ass are entirely unacquainted, and we like it that way. And also, I’m not really on a dubstep kick, but you’re really hot when you rant about ridiculous things. Sometimes you wave your hands around in the air, it’s adorable.”

****

Tony froze, just noticing that he was, indeed, waving his hands in the air, looked around at the dodgy chinese place, mind going a million miles a minute, then back at Clint. “Clint Barton, is this meant to be a _date_?”

****

Clint huffed and rolled his eyes. “No shit, Tony.”

****

“You fed me awful Chinese food that’s probably going to kill me for our first date?”

****

Clint got indignant. “Hey, I like this place! I’ve never even gotten indigestion from the food here.”

****

“Clint, your taste is kind of terrible. I know for a fact you love those Stephanie Plum mysteries.”

****

“Yeah, you’re right, my taste sucks, I’ve got the hots for you, don’t I?”

**  
**Tony grinned helplessly at that, reached across all that poisonous lo mein to grab Clint and pull him in, kiss that smiling, crinkly face, and think, privately, never willing to admit it out loud, that this might be his favorite Chinese place in the whole fucking world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this descended into all kinds of ridiculousness. I tried to rein it in, but who the fuck knows, man. Also, some shock has been expressed regarding the speed of updates today. Well, I have two responses: One, I certainly took long enough to start posting the rest of the damn thing and two: it's nearly Easter and I found the economy size buckets of cotton candy at the store today. Which, actually, might explain the level of ridiculousness in this.


End file.
